


little impossible cat

by WriterInWonderland



Series: tales of the ones who love [2]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Safe Haven (Maze Runner), but newt isn't surprised at this point, they name her together, they're sickeningly adorable, thomas finds a kitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27248440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterInWonderland/pseuds/WriterInWonderland
Summary: “I leave you for three hours and you somehow manage to find a kitten?” Newt asks incredulously.Thomas nods, “Yep.”“I have so many questions, Tommy.”“Save them for later, babe. Just say hello to her, she wants to meet you."
Relationships: Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Series: tales of the ones who love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974244
Comments: 8
Kudos: 92





	little impossible cat

NEWT:

It had been like any other day in the safe haven, Newt spending most of his day working out on the fields or sheltering in the shade with his friends when the summer heat became a little too much to bear. The ice that Frypan had tipped into their drinks had been a huge relief, as was the cold shower that Newt was currently stepping out of, haphazardly ruffling his wet hair with a towel which he drapes around his neck after pulling on some fresh clothes. This dark green t-shirt is actually Thomas’s and hangs loosely over Newt’s body, the sleeves rolled up slightly where they’re a little too long for comfort. He has a bit of a habit of stealing his boyfriend’s clothes if he’s honest.

The evening is warm as Newt walks back to the hut he shares with Thomas, heat and humidity still clinging to the air, and darkness settling over the impossibly clear sky as the sun sinks below the horizon, disappearing with shards of orange light. A few people are milling around on the grass or outside their huts, echoes of chatter and laughter drifting through the tranquil atmosphere of the evening, and Newt smiles as he passes by. There’s something about these kinds of evenings that he can’t get enough of; he loves the easiness and the peace that comes with them, completely washing away the stresses of the day.

Newt hasn’t seen Thomas since dinner because their respective work teams decided to perform the bulk of their duties at a time when the sun is a little less intense, so nobody falls ill due to too much heat. It’s times like these in which Newt envies his boyfriend’s job as a fisher; they are known to take the opportunity to swim in the water to cool off on breaks, which seems like a luxury when Newt is trapped within his precise rows of crops. 

He and his friends often head into the water around lunchtime, and he knows for a fact that nothing can beat the waves of refreshment as they tumble over his too-hot skin. But he never spends too long in the beams of the sun if he can help it; he will always burn within minutes out in the open, which is why he constantly chases the shade as it moves. Other people, like Thomas, for example, only grow more and more golden with time, his skin freckling where Newt’s simply peels.

He pushes open the door to the hut, unsure whether Thomas is going to be in here or round the back where they often spend time with the others, in the shady and secluded space they were quick to claim as their own. But he finds him sitting on the end of their bed, seemingly cooing at something brown and fluffy resting on his lap; something that causes Newt to stand staring at the scene with such confusion because Thomas is holding a _cat_ and they most certainly do _not_ own a cat. 

Except, apparently they do.

“Erm, what is that?” Newt asks from the doorway.

Thomas looks up at him with a wide smile on his face. “It’s a cat.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Then why did you ask?” asks Thomas, returning his attention down to the little creature curled up against him. Newt has to admit that it is quite possibly one of the sweetest things he has ever seen, but his confusion definitely outweighs that fact.

“Because you’re holding a bloody kitten on our bed and I wanted to make sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me,” Newt replies.

Thomas looks back up at him then, gesturing with his head for Newt to come closer. “It’s real, I promise,” he says. “Come say hi.”

The cat looks so fragile and so tiny up close, and Newt sits down beside his boyfriend to study it closer because it’s such an impossible little thing in an impossibly huge world, and yet it’s somehow right here in front of him, alive and purring in comfort as Thomas strokes a thumb over it’s tiny little head. 

“I leave you for three hours and you somehow manage to find a kitten?” Newt asks incredulously.

Thomas nods, “Yep.”

“I have so many questions, Tommy.”

“Save them for later, babe. Just say hello to her, she wants to meet you,” Thomas says as he moves his knees and the kitten closer towards Newt who peers down at it, taking in the white markings on it’s tabby face and the dark brown at the end of the tail that’s curled under its body. For a cat which must have been in the wild its entire life and living on God knows what, Newt has to admit that she’s gorgeous.

“So it’s a girl,” says Newt as he tentatively strokes the tiny little head. “What’s her name?”

“She doesn’t have one yet.”

Thomas explains how he found her alone near the boundary when he was out working with the fishers after dinner, and how they cleaned the dirt and grime out her fur and gave her some food which disappeared in a matter of seconds. The whole group of them abandoned their work to care for this little kitten, and that image alone brings a smile to Newt’s face; grown men fussing over a tiny creature, cooing at her and giving her enough fuss for a lifetime. 

He wishes he could have seen that.

“How come you’ve ended up with her, then?” he asks eventually.

“Because I asked,” says Thomas. “But she can still roam around the Safe Haven however she likes. She can just come back here when she’s hungry and needs to sleep.”

Newt tears his eyes away from the kitten to look across at Thomas. “Wait, just let me get this straight,” he says. “Our safe haven has its own pet which you have adopted?”

“Which _we_ adopted.”

Newt laughs, “ _We?_ I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

“Well you can agree to it now,” says Thomas.

“And what if I don’t want to agree to it?”

“You can’t not agree, Newt!” Thomas practically pleads. “Look at her! She likes you.”

And yes, the cat is purring beneath Newt’s touch as he scratches its ears and runs his fingers down it’s soft little body, only to bring his hand back up to its head to repeat the action. Whether she likes _him_ or not is undetermined because it sure looks like she simply enjoys having a bit of attention and Newt happens to be the one providing that.

“I really don’t get much say in this, do I?” Newt asks, though he knows he’d never have the heart to say no when Thomas’s is looking at him with desperate wide eyes and with the cat of their discussion purring contentedly. He’d never even dream of saying no to either of them. “Okay, fine,” he says eventually.

Thomas gasps, a smile lighting up his face, “Oh my God, really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Thanks babe,” Thomas says as he leans over to press a kiss to Newt’s cheek. “Now, what are we going to name her?”

  
  


THOMAS:

It’s completely dark when Thomas walks back to the hut after taking a late shower before bed, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he thinks about the events of the day and the two beautiful beings waiting inside for him; his boyfriend and the kitten they had spent a good amount of time trying to name. Newt had won the war against any name similar to ‘tabby’ or ‘boots’ or ‘whiskers’ after explaining in great detail that a cat as resilient as this one deserves so much better than something so mediocre.

Thomas had been inexplicably captivated by the smile that had painted his boyfriend’s face, his eyes so alive and holding so much care for the little creature that he found himself falling impossibly more in love with this boy, even when he thought he couldn’t possibly fall any further. 

Except he obviously can, because he does. 

Every single day.

Thomas pushes open the door to their hut which is illuminated by warm lights on either side of their bed, casting long shadows across the floor, but he stops for a moment to stare at the scene before him: Newt is half asleep, rolled onto his side with one arm around the sleeping kitten which is curled up close to his chest. It’s fair to say that Thomas’s heart may be about to burst.

He slides into bed behind Newt, instantly wrapping his arms around him and pulling him closer despite the heat that’s only just beginning to lessen. “I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“Me or the cat?” Newt murmurs.

“You, of course. I only met her today, remember? She has tough competition if she wants to compete with you.”

“I’ll have a word,” says Newt. “I’ll tell her you’re taken and that I’m kicking her off the bed if she thinks I’m going to share.”

“Says the one cuddling the cat.”

Newt hums, “Don’t be jealous, Tommy. You know you’re the only one I love like that.”

Something that Thomas has come to realise is that Newt has the softest heart and can come out with the sweetest things when he’s not even really trying; things that Thomas will treasure forever, even if Newt doesn’t even remember saying them. The first ‘I love you’ may be something they both carry with them for the rest of their lives, but the ones that followed are the ones Thomas appreciates the most. They were natural and effortless, basked in a golden pool of tenderness and drenched with the sweet taste of a promise. 

They were perfect because they were imperfect.

“I’ve decided which name is my favourite,” Newt whispers, following up on the conversation they had before Thomas left to shower.

“Yeah?” he asks.

Newt hums, practically melting into Thomas’s touch as he pushes his fingers through blond strands of hair. “It was your suggestion, actually. Athena, God of wisdom and war.”

“It’s fitting,” says Thomas. “And it’s perfect; she’s perfect. Our little warrior.”

“She’ll fit right in.”

And Thomas knows that she will; impossible chances have impossible outcomes, and this is certainly one of those. 

Athena, their little impossible cat.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed, because this is one of my favourite things I've written.  
> My [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aliceryx) if anyone wants to come say hi!


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